


Atonement

by Thegoldenrati0



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: F/F, Smut, Voyeurism, more smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-08
Updated: 2014-12-08
Packaged: 2018-02-28 16:14:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2738813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thegoldenrati0/pseuds/Thegoldenrati0
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sarah needs to be taught a lesson after distracting Rachel when working. Follow up to Dance with the Devil.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Atonement

Sarah Manning need to be kept on a tight leash. Sarah Manning needed to be reminded of her place. Sarah Manning needed to be taught a lesson. Rachel Duncan had the most severe form of torture prepared. 

Apparently able to sense her demise Sarah knocked on Rachel’s apartment door as oppose to crashing through it in usual fashion. It would appear even the wildest of creatures could be tamed with the right hand, Rachel gave a tight smile at the thought, how literal a term. 

In no really hurry, Rachel swanned over to the door and opened it, leaving the heavy set wood to swing open as she leaned against the frame. Sarah looked on edge already. Like a naughty child stood outside the Principal’s office awaiting punishment. Rachel wore only a silk robe this evening, not that Sarah knew she was bare underneath. As Manning stepped inside Rachel ran a her fingers along the curve of her jaw. Watching repulsion cover her face. 

“Why so tense, Sarah?”

“Piss off.”

Rachel decided to let that insult slide, it was a gentle breeze compared to the verbal abuse she would suffer in the very near future.

“So you know why we’re here. You thought it was amusing to be highly inappropriate when I was at the institute. What you don’t understand, Sarah, is that actions have consequences. You’ll learn that this evening.”

Sarah took a slight shaky breath. The sort one takes when preparing to go to the dentists chair. She probably deserved what ever was about to happen. She was also a partial masochist, she knew Rachel would use her sexuality to punish Sarah, and part of her loved the thrill of it. In theory, in practice all anticipation went out of the window and Sarah was a slave to her instincts. Rachel had been with holding physical contact for about 2 weeks now, she still had Sarah close by her side with false promises and various other tactics but nothing. Talk about frustrated. 

“Bring that chair into the bedroom”

“Rachel...”

Sarah’s challenged was silenced by the famous glare. Her sister, Cosima may be a slave to her heart, but it appeared Sarah was a slave to her crotch. Either way, she was addicted to the most lethal of all substances. Rachel Duncan. Sarah dragged the high set bar stool into the bedroom. Rachel would be angry she scuffed the floor but Sarah needed to keep Rachel coiled. 

“In front of the bed”

Safe to say Sarah did not like where this was going.

“Jacket and shirt off.”

She fucking hated being a lap dog to Rachel, but she needed this, she need to keep her supply of Rachel’s attention freely flowing. Christ what had she become? How was it possible Rachel Duncan had become Sarah’s puppet master and she hadn’t realized the extent of it until now. 

Throwing her clothes onto the dresser Sarah sat herself down.

“Fold them”

Rachel was positioning her pillows on the bed to give both of them optimal viewing, she didn’t need to look up to know that Sarah had dumped her clothes in a pile.

“Seriously, Rachel you’re taking the piss.”

Rachel didn’t reply, Sarah did as she was told anyway. Rachel wouldn’t complain should Sarah misbehave more often, she was seemingly compliant in the aftermath, like a scolded child trying to make amends. Sarah arranged her clothing in a slightly more organized fashion before sitting back down. Her back was rigid, her hands set on either of her thighs. 

“Now then, Sarah. Are you aware of the term voyer? It’s from the French meaning - to see.”

Sarah’s eyes went wide at the implications. Her mouth went dry, another part of her anatomy did the complete opposite. 

“Rachel...”

“Sarah, be quiet. This is the end of your involvement. Now to atone for your misdemeanor I have conditions. Firstly. You will not touch me under any circumstances. Secondly, you will not touch yourself under any circumstances. Thirdly, you will not look away from me at any point, and finally, when asked a question you will answer everytime. Understand?”

What else was there to do but nod. The Rachel facing off with Sarah tonight was the full embodiment of the woman who had climbed to the top of DYAD, who had the world under her control. It was in her best interest to go along with this little show. 

Rachel was laying back among her plush pillows, various shapes and sizes, all goose down of course. 

“Are you ready, Sarah?”

Sarah couldn’t have been further away from ready. Her leg bouncing itself on the rest bar of the chair that would be her prison until Rachel saw fit. She ran her tongue against the roof of her mouth to rehydrated it. It helped for a few seconds. 

Rachel barely had to touch the silk tie on her robe for it to fall open revealing her body to Sarah whose eye twitched as she devoured the sight. Rachel’s form never failed to inspire Sarah.

The proclone closed her eyes, ignoring Sarah. Blocking out the woman staring at her. Maybe she was fractionally self conscious but that would so fade as she lost herself to pleasure.

She was laying at a 45 degree angle, Sarah could see everything from her high stool. Rachel’s hands trailed over her stomach, the use of her silver talons drawing goosebumps to the flawless skin. The two moved in opposite directions, her left upwards, touching her neck pulled a scratch down sinewy tissue, a red mark raising as. It was the sort of mark Sarah would leave and they both knew that. Her right hand sank down, following the curve of her hip bone and across to her inner thigh.

Rachel parted her legs slightly. Sarah shifted her weight, the chair squeaking causing her to open her eyes. Sarah has sat haunched over, elbows on her knees, hands supporting her head.

“Sit with your back against the rest, Sarah. Try not to look so sloppy, yes?”

Sarah’s jaw set as she straightened up.

“Good girl”

She flexed her neck at that comment. Bitch.

With a wry smile, Rachel’s index finger ran between her legs, just at the surface, she was going to bask in every moment of this. The tension in the bedroom was electric.

She repeated the motion several times. Sarah must be squirming. Oh her eyes were fixed on the headboard above Rachel. What a feeble attempt at deception. They were only just beginning, if she couldn’t handle this she was doomed for the rest of the show.

“Sarah, you’re not looking at me”

Sarah puffed out her cheeks and adjusted her line of sight to include Rachel. 

“Better”

The only time Sarah was ever this quiet was when she was going down on Rachel, even then there were a few witty remarks thrown in. This was magnificent.

Rachel conceded and slipped her finger against her clit, giving the softest of moans as she did.

“About bloody time”

Oh there she was, our favourite firecracker had found her voice again. Again, Rachel ignored her. Sarah thrived from the attention her clone gave her, from Rachel rising to her challenges. 

The proclone had decided tonight was a perfect opportunity to be more vocal. Needless to say it would drive Sarah crazy. She moaned again as her fingers found their rhythm. She stared back at Sarah, loving the way the usual hazel of her eyes was eclipsed by her darkened pupil. She could verbally deny her wanting but her body would betray her.   
Sarah’s leg was still bouncing, albeit faster now, probably to match her heart rate.

“Do you get more wet when I fuck you or when you handle it yourself?”

Sarah rasped at her, voice thickened with desire. 

“I could ask you the same thing, Sarah?”

Rolling her eyes, Sarah looked down.

“Mmmm but you have to answer me as per our arrangement...”

Rachel stayed her hands, refusing to continue until Sarah replied. 

“There’s nothing like having those manicured fingers inside me. You make a great bitch”

Rachel’s neck muscle contracted but this was why being around each other was such a thrill.

“Would you be inside me now, Sarah?”

She slipped a lone digit through the wetness. 

“Or would you be tasting me?”

Withdrawing, Rachel ran the finger over her lips.

“Fucks sake.”

That’s more like it. Sarah tried to utter it under her breath but it carried across with the acoustics of the master bedroom. 

“Answer me.”

“Both.”

What a satisfying answer. Even more satisfying when Rachel saw Sarah’s hands clutching at the leather of her pants. Watching her squirm like that did wonderful things for the muscles in her abdomen. So much so that it was too difficult for Rachel not to continue.

Ring and middle finger replaced her index, far better traction that way. She curled them, continuously. Sarah wasn’t the only one writhing. Rachel let a symphony of groans pass her lips, each sound had Sarah raised a little higher off her seat. Hoping she could get a better view. She was rocking back and forth. How the hell was Rachel not desperate to have Sarah, she was usually one for getting her lackies to take care of any business she saw herself above.

The answer was obvious, she was the Queen of revenge, she’d give up having Sarah fuck her just this once to allow herself to drive Sarah Manning to revaluate everything she thought she knew about lust. It would give her a new appreciation for Rachel Duncan and exactly how much their arrangement was worth.

“What... would you do... now..?”

Clearly they were getting somewhere, Rachel’s breathing was erratic and Sarah watched in awe as her muscles started to flex as she hit more sensitive spots. Closing her own eyes, Sarah knew exactly what Rachel was feeling, genetically, the felt the same pleasures. This was as close as she would get to any relief tonight.

“Uh... Sarah... Come.Here”

Sarah’s abs turned to iron, the combination of the moan and her name were deadly. Her body raised of its own accord. Her feet carrying her to the side of Rachel’s bed.

“You can sit, Sarah”

Sarah needed a way to fight back, to show her defiance and remind Rachel that it would take far more than a simple wank to break her. Grabbing a glass from her nightstand Sarah fisted it into the wall. The fragile cup exploded close to a pile of dust, with the exception of the few shards that had buried them into her hand. The fire reignited in her stomach. 

Rachel’s teeth gritted but she refused to stop, with her fingers still inside herself she brought her thumb to her clit, drumming it rapidly.

She felt Sarah baring down on her. Hovering over her, she hadn’t touched Rachel. She was sticking to that end of the bargain at least. Sarah’s fist was clenched, trembling. Rachel sat herself up slightly, her chest pressing into Sarah’s, only a bra between them. 

Grabbing the middle of the fabric she yanked Sarah closer. Their faces inches apart. A similar situation mirrored in the time Sarah had broken into DYAD under the impression that Siobhan and Kira were held hostage.

“You really do like being on top, don’t you?”

She open her eyes for the first time, the two sets of hazel threatened to annihilate each other.

“For such an evil ice Queen you sure like it when I have you under me”

They were back, biting at each other. Taking low blows. Making each other tick. 

Sarah’s hand had bled down her wrist an onto the sheets. Fucking take that Rachel, she’d never hear the end of how expensive they were.

“I meant what I said, no touching”

Rachel bit Sarah’s neck forcefully as she fucked herself harder, Sarah’s arms shook as she held herself up. Knowing that it was probably one of Sarah’s greatest internal battles, Rachel moaned louder, rocked her hips and bunched the satin sheets in her hands.

“Oh... Fuck”

Profanity was the ultimate symbol of Rachel’s precarious position, a hairs breadth away from coming.

Time stopped around her, around them both. She craned herself up, her head burying itself in the crook of Sarah’s neck. Her pulse tangible against Rachel’s cheek. They were suspended in a fraction of a moment. What Rachel would do next would bring Sarah to her knees. 

She whispered, barely audible... one word. The word Sarah forced her to say everytime she fucked her. She didn’t always get her way, but when she did it ruined her. It was every victory she could ask for. Taking it into her own hands was her acceptance of some what forced Sarah’s apology

“Sarah...”

Then Rachel Duncan came, and Sarah burned. Rachel was clawing at her back, Sarah had a hand either side of her. Chest panting in time with each other. Bloody hell, Sarah hadn’t even been touched. 

Rolling off Rachel, Sarah needed to get home pretty damn quickly, she need to get home for a cold shower and a little self loving.

“Sarah Manning, there is blood over my satin sheets”

“Oh my god, you’re such a twat, Rachel”

“Yes and you’re an uncouth street rat, and yet here we are.”

Rachel quirked an eyebrow as she covered her exposed self.

Dragging her feet as she hastily tugged her shirt over her head, Sarah left the bedroom just as Troy was letting himself in. He tilted his head, Sarah look like she was ready to kill someone. Was that blood? What on earth had those two been up to this time.

“Uhh... Ms.Manning, can I offer you a tissue?”

He dug one out of his pocket to hand to her, Sarah ignored it. 

“Piss off, Troy”

Ever the professional he nodded dutifully 

“And how many times do I have to tell you to call me Sarah? We’re not all like her”

Sarah opened the door, face like thunder and called over her shoulder to him.

“...There’s blood on the sheets, you better hide. It’ll be your fault”


End file.
